Blood Brothers
by Zarak342
Summary: Bumblebee and Cliffjumper aren't happy. Circumstances have them clashing, neither liking the result but will they eventually realize each other's differences and find the means to help them? Bumblebee Cliffjumper friendship. No slash. R&R. Chapter 9 up!
1. Chapter 1

**Blood Brothers**

It was due the last battle against the Decepticons that it had happened. Every Autobot had heard it and it had sent shivers down their metallic spines.

It was a spark wrenching scream of agony and pain that was all too sudden cut off. The battle almost froze up. The Autobots stunned in horror and the Decepticons sneering in triumph by their enemies' reaction.

An Autobot had fallen.

Ratchet immediately started searching for the fallen Autobot but as the clicks passed he became more and more frustrated. The battle had caused dust and sand to swirl up in the desert-like battlefield. The cloud of the light organic ground cover – sand – didn't only irritate everybots' optics; it made the medic unable to locate the fallen. He couldn't sense the 'bot's spark signature, which was even worse.

The Autobots who weren't fighting off the Decepticons also started searching, each and every one of them praying to Primus that the small Autobot wasn't offline.

//_Ratchet, over here!_// It was Jazz who was the one to yell to Ratchet through the communication link.

Jazz was horrified to find the small Autobot lying face down in the sand with an open back wound and a part of his midsection missing completely. He kneeled beside the mech, not knowing if he was online or offline and not daring to turn him to check. Every movement to the smaller frame could be fatal, so all Jazz could do was to stay beside him, making sure no Decepticreep was near.

Jazz was no medic, but he could easily see that it was bad. Wires sparked and spat violently at the saboteur, there was a growing pool of energon and coolant under the small frame and he could even spot a part of the spark chamber through the back wound. But all he could do was silently plead for the 'bot's survival and he hated the feeling of helplessness that clawed his spark.

"Com' on, ya gotta hold on, man…" It was all he could do, plead and await the CMO's arrival. Even though he tried to stop some major energon leaks it didn't help. Jazz wondered if anything would help.

When Ratchet finally burst through the wall of swirled up sand, his face told everything. And Jazz could feel his spark sink by the stunned and horror-struck expression on the medic's face.

"Primus, no…" Ratchet mumbled under his intakes as he snapped out of his stupor and ran to the damaged Autobot's side. He showed Jazz to the side before he started his frantic working.

All whilst he talked to the smaller 'bot, even though he knew that words was one of the few thing that could not reach him now.

"Come on kid, you can't die yet. Bumblebee, stay with us!"

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Ratchet had successfully stopped the leaks, and repaired Bumblebee enough to move him from the battlefield to the med bay. The battle was already over by then, and the damage to the Autobot ranks was minimal; beside Bumblebee. Ratchet hadn't been able to confirm his survival at the time.

It was three Earth days ago. It took the CMO one day to fully repair the internal damage, and after that, he confirmed that Bumblebee would live. It had been easy to see the whole crew's sparks being lifted with relief and Bumblebee's human friend – Spike – being equally relieved. The yellow minibot had been in deep recharge the last two days.

In the meantime, Optimus was trying to collect the puzzle of the attack. And who had shot the little spy. The last anyone had seen of Bumblebee in the fight, were before Megatron and the seekers had shot at the ground and thereby cause the sand to fly up and blind everybot. There were still Autobots who tried to get the last sand out of their joints. Sunstreaker was especially annoyed by this.

Bumblebee had been fighting Ravage – and maybe Laserbeak – off. But Ratchet had mentioned that he probably was attacked from behind by another enemy and not a Cassetticon, by the looks of it. Ravage didn't have firepower to do so much damage with one shot.

Optimus sighed heavily as he laid the report back on his desk. This was no good. The Decepticons had intentionally been going after the smallest and youngest Autobot to throw the rest of the Autobots attention off. And it had worked, sort of. It was luck that Optimus had managed to damage Megatron before anymore Autobots were critical damaged.

There was a risk that the Decepticons would use tactic in another battle, so therefore Optimus made a decision.

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First off, everything seemed so terribly white. Blinding his optics a big deal, he decided to offline them and reboot properly. But several thoughts stopped his CPU from rebooting his system.

Was he deactivated? Because he remembered the battle, fighting off the black panther-like Decepticon Ravage, then the sound of jet turbines and…

As the memory flashed back into his struggling CPU he felt every fearful feeling again; the realization that they were behind him, the spark clenching dread as he turned and worst of all,

**I'm going to die!**

Bumblebee yelped loudly as he sat up, even before his system had rebooted and before he had onlined his optics, immediately drawing the attention of the CMO who rushed to the yellow 'bot.

The sudden movement of the spy's aching joints and energon-low body caused 'Bee equilibrium sensors to offline, and leaving the light-CPUed bot to topple off the berth.

Ratchet caught Bumblebee just before he could crash to the floor.

"Whoa there, Bumblebee, stay calm." Ratchet mumbled calmly as he placed the minibot securely on the berth, "Its okay now, you're okay…"

Bumblebee's intakes huffed as he flicked his optics online, looking slightly confused. "Ratchet?"

"Yes, and go back to recharge." Ratchet said while he checked the monitors of Bumblebee's internals readings. "You shouldn't be moving around just yet…"

However, Bumblebee realized he couldn't go back to recharge. Yes, he was tired but his CPU couldn't find rest and it was fighting to get some answers to why his joints were aching.

"What happened?" he asked silently once, again shutting his optics.

Ratchet glanced shortly at the minibot before relaxing back into the chair he had been recharging in for the last three days. "You were shot in the last battle." He then sighed.

"We almost lost you back there…"

Bumblebee fell silent looking at the orange ceiling. So he did almost die… But who had shot him? Ravage? No, that couldn't be it…

"Seekers…" the faint mumble was barely audible

"What?"

"I think it was a seeker that shot me…" Bumblebee looked at the CMO as wanting to confirm it.

"Ravage could hardly do so much damage…"

Ratchet shrugged lightly. "Possibly. But either way you're okay and if you don't go back to recharge I'm going to drug you…"

Bumblebee gave the medic a weak smile before trying to settle back to recharge. But once again, there was something wrong.

"Ratchet?"

"Yes?" sounded a grumpy reply

"My joints are creaking…" To prove his point the yellow 'bot moved his arm and truthfully, it creaked in protest.

"It's nothing…" Ratchet mumbled. "You just got a lot of sand in your system. I'll clean the joints later. Now, recharge!"

With the short order, Bumblebee fell back into deep recharge.

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Bumblebee spent another day recharging and after that Ratchet spent half a day cleaning the yellow 'bot's joints from sand.

Finally good to go, Bumblebee took his sweet time walking from the med bay to Prime's office, where he would have to report. He actually didn't want to. After spending 3 or 4 days inside, on the same berth, he would rather go for drive with Spike – just driving to somewhere strange and unknown.

Many of the Autobots greeted him, smiled to him and were clearly glad to see him up again. 'Bee responded to every one of them, smiling back or waving. But he didn't get to see Spike, which was a disappointment but probably for the best. If he was to talk to the human, he would probably end up choosing to go outside instead of reporting to Optimus.

However, there was one Autobot who was anything but pleased by the sight of Bumblebee.

The yellow minibot looked confused as he saw Cliffjumper storming towards him looking ever so furious.

"You! This is your entire fraggin' fault!" the red minibot roared to his yellow counterpart.

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_Sorry for grammatical mistakes: I have no beta reader and English is not my native language._

_My first fic ;) __I'm having a little trouble getting to know Fanfiction's system and such.._

_Hope you enjoy!_

_R&R_


	2. Chapter 2

"_You! This is your entire fraggin' fault!" the red minibot roared to his yellow counterpart._

Bumblebee frowned and was taken aback by the clear anger that emitted from Cliffjumper's optics.

"Excuse me?" was all he could vocalize.

"What are you, a slaggin' sparkling!?!" Cliffjumper yelled jabbing a digit at 'Bee's chassis with each word.

"I have to sparkling-sit your sorry aft plate -" Cliffjumper didn't even allow Bumblebee to utter a 'what?' before he continued "- because **you **can't take care of yourself in battle!! **Primus**!!"

With that, the red minibot finally quieted down, crossing his arms, seemingly awaiting an answer from Bumblebee, who stood with mouth agape and clearly struggling to understand.

"What?!" Bumblebee exhaled, his frown deepening.

"Yeah, you heard me!" Cliffjumper growled annoyed "Prime ordered me to look after you."

"But I can look after myself!" 'Bee said upset "I've gotten hurt more than once, Optimus shouldn't see me as a **youngling**because of the last battle!"

Cliffjumper didn't answer but glared a 'then-do-something-about-it' glare at the yellow minibot.

Bumblebee sighed in frustration. "Come on, I was going to talk to Prime anyways..." the yellow bot grabbed the red 'bot's hand and dragged him down the hallway, towards Optimus' office.

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"But Optimus --!!" two voices of two minibots sounded almost synchronically.

"No buts!" Optimus cut both of them off, his voice still calm and strict. "You two are going to work together from now on, and that's it."

Both minibots looked equally bothered by the partners they had been given.

"Why, Prime?" Bumblebee asked as he looked up on the commander "And why Cliffjumper of all the Autobots?" Both Optimus and 'Bee ignored the annoyed 'hey!' from Cliffjumper.

"Because Bumblebee…" The Autobot leader calmly started "I believe the Decepticons attacked you especially, to cause disorder among the Autobots ranks. They aimed after the youngest and we almost lost you."

Bumblebee frowned troubled, not only because he never really liked to have pointed out that he was the youngest in the Autobots ranks.

"They might try it again so therefore, you and Cliffjumper shall work together." The words were not up for discussion but both minibots looked on the edge to protest again.

"And-" Optimus quickly continued before the two could vocalize their thoughts "- It is Cliffjumper because you two being the same mold, both of you can easier follow each other.

"This is not Cliffjumper protecting you, Bumblebee, you are equally protecting Cliffjumper." Optimus eyed the red minibot who gritted his dental plates, then the yellow counterpart who sagged in defeat. There really was no discussing with the Autobot leader.

"You two are going to look after each other in the future, do I make myself clear?" Prime then asked firmly.

"Yes, Prime." The two minibots confirmed in defeat.

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"Hey Bumble--- yeeks!!" Spike yelped as he had to leap sideways to avoid the red minibot that stormed past fuming and mumbling to himself about getting some high grade from Ironhide.

Bumblebee kneeled on the floor and picked the human up.

"You okay Spike?"

"Somehow… What's up with Cliffjumper?" Spike grunted, dusting off some non-existing filth on his clothes. Bumblebee sighed shortly.

"He's just a little… offended, I guess."

"Well, there is no need to stomp on me because --" Spike stopped as he saw 'Bee's not too happy faceplate. "'Bee? Are you alright?" He asked with great concern. 'Bee wasn't hurting, was he?

"Yeah I'm okay… Spike, would you mind go on a drive with me? I need to get outside…"

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"You know what happened under the last battle?" Bumblebee's voice asked through his radio to the earthling who sat relaxing in the front seat, actually at the steering wheel this time. A couple of meetings with the police and a pretty mean joke from 'Bee had learned him that.

"You got shot." Spike said bluntly. All the Autobots on the Ark had known it. When Ratchet had transported the almost deactivated minibot into the med bay and practically sealed the doors, they had all feared the worst.

"Yeah…" And so, Bumblebee told Spike of Optimus' theory on the Decepticons' strategy – Spike wondered if he had gotten it from Red Alert – and how Cliffjumper and he had been assigned as partners in battle for a while – Oh, Cliffjumper surely didn't like that – and lastly how it bugged 'Bee that Optimus thought he needed protection.

"You know, I'm getting tired as being seen as the small one…" Bumblebee's voice mumbled through the radio. Spike nodded slowly, heck, he sort of knew what the yellow spy meant. Being human in the Ark wasn't all that easy either.

"But you also know that Optimus is only doing it to protect you… Just wait, you're probably gonna save 'Jumper's butt soon." Spike grinned seemingly to no one and Bumblebee's engine hummed in response.

The silence seemed to stretch longer. Where were they anyway? Spike wondered looking out of the windows and on the surroundings. Oh, the city, right… When they had gotten here, he didn't recall. Driving without purpose really was… relaxing.

"You and 'Jumper could be brothers." Spike suddenly said

"Huh?"

"Just a thought…" Spike shrugged. Bumblebee didn't answer at first and as the silence seemed to draw out, the young man used some time to look after hotties on the street. He twitched around to look after an especially good-looking blonde. Oh, nice butt.

Spike was thrown out of his typical teenage boy dreams as the yellow car spoke again.

"Well, we sort of are…" 'Bee said hesitantly.

"What?" Spike twitched back to stare at the radio. Okay, that was unexpected. Bumblebee and Cliffjumper were brothers?

"Not in the way you probably think." 'Bee quickly said "We're mold brothers."

"Mold brothers? Okay, care to enlighten me?"

Bumblebee thought in silence for a while. For a moment, Spike was sure 'Bee wasn't going to talk.

"It's like this; back on Cybertron we have four kinds of brothers and sisters." The spy started. "We got the adopted ones, which I think works pretty much the same way as yours."

Bumblebee shortly waited and Spike nodded in agreement.

"Then we got creator brothers which are the most common one, possibly, but not everyone grow up together like brothers and sisters. It depends on what the creator thinks and what the creator learns his or hers creations. Like, uh, the Dinobots."

"Thirdly, we got spark brothers which can be drawn in reference to the humans' twins. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are spark brothers. It is kind of a rare event, though."

"Then there're mold brothers," Bumblebee finally said "which isn't really a brother bond but, it's just being the same mold. Ironhide and Ratchet, the Decepticons' seekers, and me and Cliffjumper."

"So it's like kin brothers?" Spike asked

"Uh, you could say that, beside the whole close-bond thing. Mold brothers are no big deal, really. It's mostly ignored."

"Maybe could be a blend of kin brother and blood brother…" Spike mused out loud but mostly meant for himself.

"… Blood brothers?" Bumblebee asked confused. Oh yeah, Spike thought, Transformers didn't have blood so they probably didn't have blood brothers either.

"… That kinda tough to explain…" Spike muttered. "Uhm… When two humans… Damn, sounded like I was gonna give you the whole 'bee and flower' talk." Spike cut himself off with a wide grin.

Bumblebee chuckled equally when he was reminded of that particular situation where Spike had to explain the humans breeding – with a little help from his dad, luckily. Funny enough, Ratchet had been one of the hardest to convince that it was true.

"Anyways, it's like this; when two humans see each others as almost brothers they share a small amount of blood, just a small cut in the finger or something like that, and they can call themselves blood brothers. It's beyond friendship but still not real brothers." Spike leaned back in the seat, happy with the explanation. "Yeah, something like that…"

"Mold brothers are probably the complete opposite of blood brothers." Bumblebee almost grinned "We got nothing in common besides looks."

"And that is really much in common. I mean, Starscream, Thundercracker and… was it Skywarp?" Spike asked and 'Bee hummed an affirmative. "They really look alike! If they ever should get different colors, we wouldn't be able to tell them apart."

"Beside Starscream's null rays…" Bumblebee said.

"And his extremely shrill voice…" Spike added. They fell silent shortly before laughing on Starscream's expense.

"No, really, I wonder what happened to his voice." Spike chuckled. "If he wasn't a freaking giant robot who could squash me in a second, I wouldn't be able to take him seriously!"

Bumblebee laughed along.

It was getting darker, Spike noted as he looked at the weakly lighted streets. Wait, didn't he have school tomorrow? Or was it another day in Sparkplug's workshop? Really, he should get himself a calendar, Spike thought. But either way;

"Think we should get back?" Spike asked.

"Yeah, probably…" Bumblebee trailed off with a small huff, indicating he didn't really want to yet.

Spike was about to come with a good argument when a voice abruptly ordered through the communication link to all Autobots, and through 'Bee's radio. The order quickly decided that returning decision.

//_All Autobots, return to base. We got Decepticons approaching the Ark within the next twelve hours!_//

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_Thanks for the reviews on chapter one._

_Chapter two._

_Sorry for grammatical mistakes: I have no beta reader and English is not my native language._

_Hope you enjoy!_

_R&R_


	3. Chapter 3

He was no good at waiting. Sitting in his quarters, he impatiently triple-checked all personal weapon arsenals and constantly expecting the alarm to howl the arrival of the enemy.

More than once, he caught his own red and black stabilizing servo – or foot, as the earthlings tended to call it – tapping the orange floor beneath him, or his black hand tapping the silver grey berth next to him; impatiently – or rather; itching – to pull the trigger and kick some Decepticon back plate.

No, Cliffjumper was no good at waiting.

Not one slagging bit.

His whole situation didn't really help much on the mood either. How the Pit did Optimus expect him to look after that stupid little slagger of a minibot, especially in battle?! He had his own fights to fight, for Primus' sake! What, did Optimus except him to stay behind with the spy? No way! He still had to keep up with those self-centered Lamborghinis; they still had to learn to stop disrespecting him, one way or another.

With a frustrated groan, Cliffjumper started pacing around in his room and 'accidentally' knocking over a few things while his furious thoughts roamed his CPU.

Why did Optimus even think Bumblebee needed protection? 'Cause he was small? Cliffjumper was small too. Brawn, Gears and Powerglide too. Cliffjumper didn't even think to consider Huffer in that calculation because the minibot was just way too negative to be considered a proper warrior. Well, at least from his point of view.

Another hour had passed.

How the Pit did Red Alert even know the upcoming attack? Twelve hours beforehand?

"Slagging glitch's probably a Decepticon spy. He should rust in the brig, that ---" Cliffjumper mumbling trailed of, ending in an angry growl.

He stopped up, in the middle of the room, subspacing the gun he had automatically pulled out and dealing with his treacherous path of thoughts.

"No, no, not a spy. Gotta stop thinking like that. It's good intel, that's all… gotta… trust the glitch. Stupid security officer, he is." Cliffjumper started pacing again but this time picking up the stuff he had knocked over. "Stupid programming…"

A sudden howl of an alarm caught Cliffjumper off guard making him drop the broken datapad he was studying, in short-lived surprise.

"Finally!" He yelled as he found the most suitably gun and ran out of his quarters to join the rest of the Autobots at the entrance to the ark.

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The wind was steadily growing in strength, whirling up sand from the bare desert-ground. Sand was a pain in the diode, to say it sweetly. Besides the constant pricking feeling on his windshield, his tires tended to get caught in the sand and send him either spinning or stuck.

Though Bumblebee liked planet Earth a lot, the desert was not one of his favorite places.

Actually, he had been there before together with Spike who had explained that the very problematic desert, he was currently driving in, was only desert-_like_. It was just a bit of bare land where nothing – or mostly nothing – could grow. Bumblebee had yet to visit what the humans really designated as 'desert'.

Sensors picking up a larger group of spark signatures, the yellow spy slowed down as he reached what at first sight looked like a rift in the sand, but seeing rocks sticking up at the edge, he concluded that it was probably some sort of smaller rocky canyon.

He transformed in safe distance from the rift, making sure to silence his own whirring system. Standing silently, he tried to peek over the edge from that secure distance but without success, so with an inaudible internal sigh, he moved closer, sneaking forward.

There was one good thing about the sand though, Bumblebee mused, noting that there was almost no sound or vibration in the ground from his servos. He only hoped that the increasing sound from his sand-creaking joints would not expose him.

Noise and voice reached his audio receptors as he reached the rift. Lowering to the – now rocky – ground by the edge he peeked down in the rock canyon.

Decepticons.

Lots of Decepticons.

Too many Decepticons.

Bumblebee cursed inwardly by the number of the Decepticons; possibly most of them in one place. The Autobots had expected an attack, but by the looks of it – the Decepticons were filling energon cubes from an oil field located at the button of this very crack in the earth – it was not the case.

Energon raid.

Mirage had gotten the wrong intel. Oh boy, was he gonna get it from Red Alert and Cliffjumper.

And the spy was gonna get it, if he was discovered.

With that unappealing thought, he started to move away from the sandy edge, making sure not to push anything of the light earth cover down and reveal his position.

Gently moving away, he almost yelped as his internal communication link buzzed to life, the voice streaming out silently to the world around him. Hey, you aren't in the Special Ops without a proper comm. link.

//_Yo, Little 'Bee. Didja find anythin'? A 'Con or two, maybe?_//

Bumblebee moved a little further away from the canyon before answering the message from his Special Ops officer.

//_Actually, Jazz, I think I found all of them. Mirage got off beam intel, the Decepticons landed in a canyon on the way and they're stealing energy from an untouched oil field. I'm sending you the coordinates now._//

//_Ouchie, is 'Raj gonna get it from Red. Let's jus' hope 'Jumper not gonna start tha' whole 'traitor' deal again._//

The yellow spy chuckled shortly. Just his thoughts. //_Hopefully._//

//_Speakin' of which, 'Jumper ain't with ya anymore, right?_//

//_... No. He took off on his own._//

//_Thought so much…Coordinates received. Hang on tight, 'Bee and we'll be there before 'Jumper would be able to pull tha trigger._//

//_Hanging._// Bumblebee grinned to no one. //_Though you should probably hurry up or the 'Cons will get away with the Energon._//

//_Nevah gonna happen. Jazz out._// The officer chuckled as he shut the communication.

Bumblebee smiled shortly. Talking to Jazz always made his mood go up a couple of grades. He was lucky to have such a free-sparked officer. He couldn't imagine working under Prowl or Red Alert, though Ironhide was okay and, in the end, they all worked with Optimus as commander and leader.

He sat down beside a large rock, located far enough away from the rift and began waiting. It was fine, actually, because the sun warmed his yellow chassis soothingly and the air was fresh and clean. Well, as clean as it could be in a sand environment but at least he didn't have to worry about the gusts since the rock provided proper shelter from the sandy winds.

It was probably for the best that Cliffjumper had left to start with, although Bumblebee wasn't all happy with the angry insult he had received from the red Autobot when said drove off on his own Decepticon search. Cliffjumper wouldn't have been able to keep the finger from the trigger until backup arrived, which ultimately would have lead to both their deactivations.

Bumblebee wondered what kind of programming upgrades the red one had gotten to make him longing for fights so much.

Well, either way, Bumblebee could wait. Even patiently for Jazz to send the coordinates to the searching Autobots and for said Transformers to get there. He could wait.

But it was not comfortable when the wind picked up and breathed a sandy gust directly in his face.

He spluttered when the sand entered his mouth and optics' corners. Primus, was nature against him sitting there?

Wait, hold up, that sound couldn't be nature.

He covered his optics against the harsh gust, with a yellow arm, trying to listen through the howling of the wind for that unnatural sound.

He recognized it quickly.

Thrusters. Landing thrusters followed by a thud and shifting sand.

Oh –

Looking up, the minibot saw a black and purple seeker flash a large grin downwards to the seated Autobot.

– Slag!

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_Thank you for reviews on earlier chapters. They're much appreciated!_

_Sorry for grammatical mistakes: I have no beta reader and English is not my native language._

_If anyone is interested I'll properly be one chapter ahead on my DA account: Zarak342._

_Hope you enjoy!_

_R&R_


	4. Chapter 4

Well, that was just great. Brilliant. Slagging terrific. Was he a yellow Decepticon magnet or something? Was there some sort of giant neon sign pointed at him with 'hey, I'm here, kick my aft' in flashy green letters?

There must be, Bumblebee mused as he let out a squeak in surprise and terror, backing up against the before-comfortable-placed-but-now-totally-in-the-way rock. That, or Primus had decided to go vendetta on his aft and make his life miserable. Optimus would never let this one go. If the spy lived to see the next day he would never be allowed go on Special Ops missions alone. So Bumblebee would have to get out of this one, in one piece, by himself. Again. Slag.

"Oh, found a bug infestation. Too bad I forgot my bug spray," Skywarp cackled. "Just gonna have to squash it."

Now that was just smacking cliché. On which human website had he picked that up? 'Bee thought and he would have laughed loudly if the seeker wasn't looming manically over him.

The yellow spy got up on his knees, still unable to back further away. Bracing for whatever might come, he glanced up and growled at the Decepticon.

He hadn't expected the winged frame to be just that fast. But then again, this enemy was a jet, meant for flight and speed and Skywarp had that highly annoying teleportation system. With a vice-like grip the seeker grabbed Bumblebee's light plated throat, effectively chocking his intakes leaving him to depend on other external unruffled air systems to cool his frame.

He reached subspace to pull out his gun so he could blast Skywarp in the face, as said seeker lifted 'Bee up with surprising ease and at the same time bending the grey alloy under the purple digits.

Bumblebee didn't get the time to shoot however, when Skywarp suddenly decided that the Autobot wasn't worth the trouble to hold and threw the yellow 'bot through the air.

_Longer away from the canyon. That's good._ Bumblebee noted automatically, his programming not fully comprehending the trouble he was in, but when pain suddenly bloomed from his back; all those thoughts were forgotten in an astroclick.

Skywarp had teleported the second he had thrown Bumblebee. Now standing in the yellow's path, Skywarp had lifted a stabilizing servo which had planted severely on 'Bee's back.

Bumblebee crumbled to the ground with a breathless curse, seconds later regretting opening his mouth when sand entered, clogging his vocalizer's exteriors. His internal repair system promptly started cleaning it, temporarily moving all sand down into his intakes chambers. Frag, he would be coughing sand up for several days.

He barely got the time to take a deep intake before Skywarp had placed his stabilizing servo on his back again, adding pressure and grinning widely as the yellow frame started to struggle to get up.

//_Jazz!_// Bumblebee managed to yelp through the communication link, //_Help! Hurry!_//

He didn't notice the worried answers he received back when his pain receptors sent another aching message. Neither did he notice that he had started to sink down the sand.

Skywarp hadn't either.

The seeker suddenly lost his balance and as he tumbled forward in the sand, trying to prevent from falling, Bumblebee got up on his knees, shortly coughing out sand.

He once again reached for his blaster, this time fast enough to catch the seeker squarely on the wing. Skywarp yelped as his sensitive wings were attacked, quickly turning around to face the minibot, snarling as anger flared up.

"You're gonna regret that, groundpounder!"

Bumblebee was about to answer back, only to let out a rusty cough. _Great_, he grunted internally, _vocalizer's clogged an' it's gonna take time to clean_. So instead he shot again, quickly diving for cover behind a half buried rock.

Skywarp jumped sideways, avoiding the blast and speedily preparing his own blasters.

Bumblebee heard the recognizable whooshing sound as Skywarp's teleportation device was activated. He didn't even spare a moment to look up and confirm it; instead he spun around and shot immediately, not even knowing if there was a target.

There was.

Bumblebee heard a pained cry and he saw Skywarp stumble backwards, clutching a hand over the broken canopy-glass on his chest. Possible the most fragile place on a seeker, together with the wings.

The yellow minibot would have let out a yell in triumph if his vocalizer wasn't temporarily inactive.

But he barely managed to duck the blaster shot that took a good chunk of his shoulder alloy. He cried out, instinctually aiming at the seeker again, shooting and once again he struck his target.

Skywarp fell to the ground when the blaster shot impacted with his abdomen, tearing the outer alloy in a shower of sparks, a howl in pain leaving his vocalizer.

Bumblebee stood up, constantly and cautiously aiming his blaster on the still frame of the seeker. But when the seeker seemed unconscious, he slowly lowered his weapon as he started to wonder.

Should he finish the Decepticon? It would mean one less enemy to worry about. But Bumblebee worried; that the mold brothers in Skywarp's seeker trine would seek some sort of revenge, that the deactivation would alarm the other Decepticons in the canyon but most of all he was afraid to pull the trigger. To mercilessly kill like the Decepticons did.

Bumblebee heard engines behind him, which made him spin around, fearing the encounter of more Decepticons. But this weren't Decepticons, it was Autobots.

Another whooshing sound turned the spy's attention back to the damaged enemy only to find the seeker gone. Teleported away in a swift moment of consciousness.

Bumblebee didn't hold back a sigh of relief as his decision was made, even though the Decepticons would be alarmed now.

But he wasn't alone anymore.

"Bumblebee, you okay?!" Jazz yelled to the minibot as he transformed, running the rest of the way, Bluestreak close behind. As Bumblebee waved to the Autobots, large grin on his face, they visibly relaxed and as another large group of Autobots caught up and transformed, they walked up to the spy.

Cliffjumper was walking next to Optimus looking quite displeased and annoyed. He had properly already gotten a good verbally beat up by the commander.

"Primus, Bumblebee, you scared the slag out of us. What happened? We thought you were in trouble. We got really worried when you contacted Jazz and asked for help." Bluestreak rambled, going over Bumblebee's frame for injuries, optics shortly pausing at the shoulder wound which was leaking energon slightly.

Bumblebee tried to answer but instead went into a violent coughing fit, alarming the Autobots once more. Ratchet pushed past Hound and Trailbreaker, intending to help but he was waved off by the yellow spy, who was slowly recovering from coughing.

" 't's fine." Bumblebee's vocalizer scratched, "Jus' sand."

He took a deep breath, as the rest of the sand clogging his vocalizer was pushed away and down his intakes chambers. Finally being able to talk, he answered Bluestreak and the rest of the Autobots.

"Found the Decepticons in that canyon," he pointed. "They're stealing energy, but as I moved away, Skywarp must have seen me." Bumblebee's vocalizer was still scratching slightly, since the rest of the sand would have to be cleaned away manually.

"He attacked, but I managed to fight him off. He teleported away just before you got here," the spy finished his sentence with a rusty cough, drawing the attention of the CMO once more, but this time on the shoulder wound.

Cliffjumper had moved up beside Bumblebee, eyeing the shoulder wound also, optic ridge raised.

"You did? Really? But not completely unscratched, apparently," Cliffjumper grunted, having a look of disbelief and annoyance by the fact that he wasn't there to fight also.

Bumblebee stared back, equally with raised optic ridge and annoyed look "It's fine, really. Not much but a scratch in the paint…"

"But you should properly go back to the Ark, have First Aid look at that." Ratchet instructed, not with his normal ordering tone because he could see it wasn't a bad wound and it would in no way affect Bumblebee in battle, so the decision was up to Bumblebee himself or Optimus.

Bumblebee frowned, like Ratchet had expected, and didn't look all too happy with the suggestion.

"Really, Ratchet, it's fine. I can fight too," 'Bee said, his expression giving the message that he would seriously consider fighting the Autobots to stay and join the battle. He was finished being seen as weak. "I'm not gonna - _AUCH!_"

Bumblebee wheeled around to face Cliffjumper, smacking away the black hand that had poked, _poked_, his sore shoulder wound.

"What the Pit did you do that for!?" Bumblebee yelled as the other Autobots stared at the two minibots. Cliffjumper was still glaring at Bumblebee with the same look; disbelief and annoyance.

"That's not slaggin' fine," The red bot growled back, raising his hand to poke again.

"I said it was _fine_, not that it wouldn't hurt when you fragging _poked_ it!" Bumblebee howled as he moved his shoulder to protect it from further attacks. "What's wrong with you?!"

"There's _nothing_ wrong with _me_! You're the one that can't fight _one_ Decepticon _without_ getting hurt!" Cliffjumper hurled back, anger growing.

"If you haven't noticed; I'm a _spy_, not an empty headed frontliner like _you_!!" The yelling grew.

"That's _not_ an excuse!!"

Just when Bumblebee was about to yell back at the highly-annoying-and-no-idea-what-he-was-talking-about Cliffjumper, Jazz decided to interrupt. Stepping up between the two minibots, he promptly cut off any visual contact between them. Bumblebee, however, was not up for the interruption since he seriously considered kicking Cliffjumper's aft back to Cybertron, right there. The yellow spy glowered at his Special Ops officer only to receive a blue visored gaze back, no feelings whatsoever. Slag, that visor tended to get annoying.

"Bumblebee, Cliffjumper. Enough," Jazz calmly said, also receiving angry stares from the red minibot.

_Oh, Cliffjumper is so going down!_ Bumblebee thought as plans of how he should get the twins to go prank – more than usually – on Cliffjumper. Yep, he was going down. And with those thoughts, Bumblebee was able to calm down, suppressing the anger still brewing inside him, thinking that he could take it out on a Decepticon or two.

He heard Optimus mumble a – mentally exhausted – 'thank you' to Jazz, which actually did not help on his mood at all.

Slaggers, all of them.

"Weren't we supposed to smash Deceptiscums by now?!" Cliffjumper hissed through gritted dental plates. A couple of the fight-lusting Autobots grunted in agreement.

"Right," Optimus grumbled, clearly not approving the disorder among the smaller members of the Autobots. "Primary objective is to make sure the Decepticons won't get away with the energon, secondly, we attack in groups so make sure you are not separated if the Decepticons should stir up the sand again. Attack from the canyon edge at first."

Optimus stared at his soldiers, he crew and his friends, all looking prepared to fight for the sake of Earth once more.

"I do not want to see any severely injured in the medical bay today, so be careful."

Pep talk was a word that Optimus had learned from the earthlings and a quite useful word too. The Cybertronian word for this could be translated to something similar to 'preparation for war' in Earth language, and to be honest, the Cybertronians word sounded a tad grim.

"You know your positions. Move out."

And so, the Autobots moved out for yet another battle and even though there was a planetary change it was still to fight in the war.

A war some believed would never end.

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_A/N: __Reviews keeps me a happy author, and keeps the fic going :D_

_Sorry for grammatical mistakes: I have no beta reader and English is not my native language._

_Hope you enjoy!_

_R&R_


	5. Chapter 5

He aimed carefully with the ominous large rifle, pulled out of subspace from the much smaller red body. One of the few things Cliffjumper could trademark. Of course, Bluestreak also had quite good subspace system, since he had to carry that large sniper rifle around, but it still wasn't the same as Cliffjumper's.

At first, he was uncertain where he should aim. The nearest target – and that should maybe had been his first choice – was Thundercracker, but said blue seeker was helping the incapacitated Skywarp, and there wasn't any game in that. It made the red fighter snort internally when he saw the purple and black seeker's damage. Bumblebee really could throw quite a punch… Cliffjumper would never admit that though.

For a second he considered aiming at the energon cubes that the Decepticons had started piling, readying for transport. But then again, huge explosion equaled a lot of sand and that was not something he was keen of trying again.

The Decepticons were hurrying, trying to get all the energon cubes out of there before the Autobots – they were expecting – came. Cliffjumper could almost imagine their reactions when Skywarp had teleported down there.

Megatron was keeping a cautious optic on his minions, as they prepared the cubes, Soundwave had just stopped creating the cubes and Starscream was scrambling about, throwing orders to his trine members who were profusely ignoring him. One for a better reason than the other.

Primus, Starscream could be pathetic sometimes.

Cliffjumper glared to his left and right, impatiently, seeing several Autobots also taking aim. They were awaiting Optimus Prime's order – the commander standing behind because he was too heavy to lean on the edge. Honestly, Optimus didn't look all that pleased staying behind for the opening attack.

Cliffjumper settled his aim on Soundwave's back.

Come on, come on… Give the damn order!

Silence followed.

He growled internally. Why the wait? He could just shoot right there, damaging the third in command of the enemy – maybe even destroy him permanently – instead he had to wait for the order. And let a perfect opportunity pass.

What did Cliffjumper say about waiting?! Not. Good. At. It.

Bluestreak, the Autobot on his left, didn't give any outer sign of being impatient, that little camper. Sideswipe on his right, on the other servo, seemed a little too eager to spill energon. Bumblebee had been placed as far away from the red minibot as the line of Autobots allowed. Surprisingly, the yellow spy seemed very… edgy.

A startled yell – or you could call it a yelp – from the canyon brought Cliffjumper's eyes back to the game. Starscream had spotted the several gun tips, looming on the edge, and he certainly didn't try to mute his surprise. And then it started…

"Autobots, open fire!" Optimus commanded finally.

And they did. A rain of plasma shots bombarded the Decepticons and the, mostly, sand covered ground around them. Cliffjumper could only sneer in annoyance when Soundwave partly managed to dodge Cliffjumper's blast; which now penetrated the Decepticon's shoulder.

Just then, maybe out of pure instinct, Starscream decided to use that last strategy again. He fired his thrusters without taking off, making the sand fly. Only problem was that the Decepticons were the only ones in the canyon, and the sand didn't travel up.

"Starscream, you _fool_!" Megatron's roar could be heard from somewhere in the sand cloud. "You are only blinding _us_!"

"If you had called for retreat in the first place," the second in command counted, his shrill voice highly noticeably in their cover, "we would've gotten away with the cubes!" The argument was abruptly cut off with a yelp, properly when Megatron clubbed the seeker.

The Autobots on the edge had subspaced their blasters, but Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had already jumped down the sand cloud, without Optimus' order. Cliffjumper cursed lightly that he hadn't been before them. So without a seconds thought, he jumped down to join the battle, a couple of seconds before Optimus actually ordered it.

Cliffjumper had not been enthusiastic on doing the 'sand battles' again, but sometimes duty called. Still, it was getting increasingly annoying to be able to see squat. He could only listen, to the battle going on around him, sometimes sounding like it was right beside him, but not able to see a foot in front of himself. He would have to wait for the sand to settle, but no way was he gonna let the battle be fought out around him. So he advanced, his smaller gun trained in front of him.

There were sounds of war all around him, and he blamed that for not being able to hear the one 'con who stepped up behind him. Yep, that was totally the reason. It was only when a vice-like grip around his neck and one around his left arm cut of the energon flow that he thought of turning his gun behind him, only to have it forced out of his hand.

An agonizing pain travelled up his left arm and shoulder, as the grip on his arm tightened and started to pull away from his body. He gritted his dental plates to prevent himself from crying out, and the simply groan that escaped him was drowned out by the screeching sound of ripping and abused metal.

His optics flickered, when the hand around his neck cut off the life giving fluids to his CPU.

He heard someone snarl. Not from behind him.

Cliffjumper's dimming sight caught a flash of yellow before the world blacked out.

oOo

He awoke staring up on the face of a very grumpy looking Ratchet.

_Oh, for Primus sake…_

Cliffjumper grunted lightly in annoyance, his thoughts sluggish from possibly pain-blocker sedatives. That was just great. Perfect ending on a completely slagging terrible day. He had been hurt in battle! What the Pit was wrong with 'karma' these days? Honestly, he felt haunted.

Ratchet's optics narrowed, looking even more displeased now his patient was awake. Here comes the rant…

"What did Optimus say? 'Be careful', right?" The medic growled, as he removed himself from Cliffjumper's berthside. The bright lights of the medical bay – which Ratchet had shadowed before – suddenly shone a little too much, the light cutting through the slow haze in his CPU. "Why the slag do you have a problem following that?!" The rant continued.

"Frag off," Cliffjumper growled unhappily as he shut his optics against the bright light. What had happened? The battle had obviously gone hay wire for him, but afterwards. Wait, what was his status?

The red warrior could feel Ratchet's presence looming near, the grinding of tired joints, as he tested limb after limb, finding everything but the left arm responsive.

"Don't move, you slagheap." Oh, he had really caught Ratchet on a bad day, "I don't know if you've noticed but your arm's missing!"

Oh, that was the problem… Cliffjumper peered to his side where the shoulder joint should have connected to his shoulder, finding nothing but a few sealed energon cables sticking out morbidly. He huffed lightly, it wasn't the worst he had seen, but it was a bit annoying not being able to move his non-connected arm.

"What is wrong with you these days?" Ratchet puffed as he checked the cable sticking out of the arm socket. "I can't believe Bumblebee had to save you."

What?! Cliffjumper sat up fast enough to cause Ratchet to backpedal in shock. He stared at Ratchet with wide optics, a gaze the medic returned surprised. They were silent for several minutes, the silence only broken by soft intakes from a recharging Autobot across the medical bay.

"That's not true…" Cliffjumper mumbling trailed off, earning a raised optic ridge from Ratchet. Primus, it was a fragging embarrassment!

"Cliffjumper, put your petty competition on the shelf!" Ratchet snarled. "Bumblebee saved your life, so you better show some gratitude!"

"Gratitude?!" Cliffjumper spluttered. Gratitude for the humiliation?! He had been saved by that pathetic spy!

"Yes, gratitude," the medic rumbled as he stepped up beside the red minibot, forcing him to lie down again. "A small 'thank you' wouldn't hurt you either."

Ratchet didn't give Cliffjumper any time to counter as he continued, "I'm putting you back to recharge. I got a report to relay, and you still got a lot of time in here."

Cliffjumper felt the cool of a sedative in his veins, his intakes slowing to a calming pace and the furious thoughts fading out in a haze again.

His last thought before falling back into recharge was 'no one is ever gonna let this one go'.


	6. Chapter 6

A knocking on his office door brought Optimus Prime out of the current thought pattern. He had been staring on the same mission report for the last half Earth hour, but had still not succeeded past Sideswipe's 'then we kicked their aft plates!'. Whoever wanted to talk to him would be a welcoming change from the dull – if not somewhat amusing – report of the last battle.

"Come in," he calmly said as he let the report rest on his desk, not before skimming an exaggerated 'singlehandedly made them swallow sand'. Holding back a chuckle, he thought that at least Sideswipe's report skills had improved. When Optimus first had taken the twins under his command, it was not uncommon to receive the single-worded battle report 'Won.'

Ratchet entered shortly after and, looking rather tired and irritated Optimus noted, placed himself in front of Optimus' office desk. In the short silence that followed Optimus took the chance to cast a critical optic look on the somewhat large gash in the medic's outer armor on his lower arm. Ratchet, seeing Optimus' optics glint with that typical concerned look, shortly stared on his own wound and just shrugged all-saying. He hadn't had time.

"I'm here for the medical report," Ratchet said like it would help the leader's optics off the wounded arm. It partly did, because Optimus nodded slowly, his optics moving away from the torn armor. But instead of giving the medic time to talk, the leader held up a hand and stood from the desk. "Let's take it while we walk to the bay, shall we?" he non-questioned, as he moved to the door, shortly after followed by Ratchet.

"Cliffjumper was the worst wounded amongst us," Ratchet began as he walked by the leader's side, "and that only includes a missing arm and bend neck plating, so it was a relatively painless fight this time."

Optimus nodded as they continued on. The directive of the battle had also fared fairly well. The Decepticons had only escaped with a few cubes, which was good over and all. Ratchet continued, "A couple of bots got far more sand in their joints then likeable, but some trips to the wash racks should do the trick." The medic huffed lightly and with an annoyed arm gesture added, "Of course, Sunstreaker and Tracks demanded extra wax and polish, those slaggers."

Optimus elevated an optic ridge but said nothing, as he really did not have a comment. They continued on their path in a calming silence, not of the awkward kind, which Optimus enjoyed much. To say that hours of reports could be a bit… murky minding would be an understatement.

"Then," Ratchet said, sounding a tad hesitant, enough to make Optimus worried, "off the medical battle report, there's Bumblebee."

"Bumblebee?" he echoed, confused.

"Yes, Bumblebee," the medic sighed lightly, showing not too much concern which eased Optimus a little. "He seems to have picked up a virus."

The casual demeanor and the oddly out of place message almost made Optimus stop in his tracks. "Excuse me?" He knew he sounded confused, but in his defend he was caught a little off guard.

"A virus. Might even be human created," Ratchet snorted lightly. "It's the cause of the kid's rather… short temper of late. Making him act irrational." He aimed a raised optic ridge at Optimus, "As if you haven't noticed." Which the leader only could huff a laugh at because, Primus, had he noticed. The medic continued, "I'm never gonna let anyone slack off virus updates again. That means you too, Optimus."

The prime chuckled lightly as the two of them kept on the path to the medical bay.

----------------------------------------------------

By the time Cliffjumper's system rebooted properly from the medical recharge, he had decided to think everything through before jumping any rash conclusion. He realized that it was probably quite unusual for him to stop up and think – and if any of the minibots found out he would probably never hear the end of that either – since he had always been the impulsive kind of 'bot. And, he mused, that was what he had come to be known of. It was his trademark, along with the huge-aft guns he could pull 'out of the hat' as the humans had once called it.

But now, lying there on a medical berth and counting tiles and cracks in the ceiling, he had time to think. Either way, Ratchet would never let him out until repaired properly. He had been given the time and the pain-blocker drugs gave him the patience.

Of course he was relieved to be still functioning because in the battle field he had feared he would cease to exist, without even knowing who had ended him. Pit, he would even admit to have felt overjoyed when he woke in the medical bay – although he never showed so and the feeling had been short-lived when he had seen Ratchet.

So Bumblebee had saved him..? It was odd, Cliffjumper thought, how the yellow spy kept surprising him. First off, Bumblebee had fought Skywarp alone and won; he had confronted Cliffjumper with anger worth the grumpiest of the Autobots and lastly had saved Cliffjumper from – quite literally – losing his head.

But Cliffjumper still felt incredibly annoyed and irritated at the spy. He, a warrior, had been saved by a simple hide-in-the-shadow spy and it was downright embarrassing. Cliffjumper was embarrassed of himself. Not that he hadn't been saved several times in the battlefield, especially in the beginning of his warrior path, but they had all been warriors like him and larger than him.

Bumblebee was smaller than him, Primus dammit! He was the kid of the Autobots, the humans' friend, the good, fun-loving minibot. Amongst the minibots he was the most cheerful, still able to be the most serious. He didn't complain of tasks and always took it good sparkedly. He could laugh at the simplest thing, defend his minibot buddies if the smallest of insults were heard and still act so damned innocent.

Bumblebee was so much opposite Cliffjumper that it almost hurt.

Cliffjumper frowned at the ceiling, both annoyed and confused that he didn't understand Bumblebee. The spy had the hardest of heads, improbable to learn and to know.

The real Bumblebee hid, Cliffjumper knew that. And he didn't like that.

He didn't like that increasingly annoying poking of his damaged alloy, either, and it was getting harder to ignore. Something poked and prodded the socket where his shoulder once was. Not that it hurt, he owed that to the pain-blockers, but he didn't get _why_ someone had to be an annoying aft.

With a grunt Cliffjumper rebooted his optics to focus, leaving them to flicker shortly. He turned his head to locate the source of the prodding, most of all wishing he had had his left arm to just push the annoyance away.

He stared into a pair of angrily narrowed, blue optics.

Belonging to a small, yellow spy.

"What do you want?" Cliffjumper growled at the disturbance, wanting to be left alone. Bumblebee, however, didn't answer and kept unusual quiet.

He poked.

"Would you stop that?" the red warrior snarled, his anger increasing. Bumblebee's optics narrowed even more, his mouth curled down in a frown.

He prodded.

"What the Pit, Bumblebee!?" Cliffjumper yelled as he forced his one arm under himself to push up to sit on the berth and stare down at the small Autobot. "What is this, some kind of revenge for poking your stupid shoulder wound?!" He pointed at the black shoulder of the yellow one, at the neatly welded part. "Stop acting like a sparkling, you slagger, and leave. me. alone!"

Bumblebee lunged, taking Cliffjumper completely by surprise.

The red warrior didn't even realize what was going on before the back of his head collided painfully with the floor. Slightly dazed, he realized that Bumblebee had pounced; pushing both the red and the yellow forms off the berth, and Cliffjumper was then pinned down by the spy who sat straddled on his chest armor. Though Cliffjumper was deeply confused, he reacted instinctually and with a harsh tug he freed the remaining arm from Bumblebee's grip and delivered a sudden punch to the yellow one's jaw.

Bumblebee yelped as he toppled of Cliffjumper, holding a hand to his dented jaw. Cliffjumper took the opportunity, pushed up to sit again before he half stumbled, half rolled over to where Bumblebee lay and tried to stop the spy from moving with a well-studied wrestling move – which, unfortunately, proved difficult with only one arm. All he earned was an unhealthy blow to the chest and being practically thrown off the smaller one's frame.

Cliffjumper blamed the drugs and the missing arm that he hadn't already won.

He staggered and stood at the same time as Bumblebee, both stood ready for a fight, face to face.

Both lunged, charged at each other in deadly seriousness. If they had been the normal sized transformer it would be an almighty clash. This, though still almighty, was a smaller clash, a smaller crash as they connected, throwing punches at the opponent with loud clanging of metal against metal.

Cliffjumper was furious. He had no idea why Bumblebee, of all Autobots, had started this fight in the medical bay, of all places, but it really threw him in the fiery loop. Bumblebee was acting like a damned glitch, being annoying and downright treacherous. He had attacked a damaged comrade. The two of them might have a rather… strained relationship after Optimus had ordered them to work together, but if the fight was found out, both Cliffjumper's and Bumblebee's lives would just get worst.

Suddenly Cliffjumper took a punch to the left side of his face, where he hadn't been able to block, and his optic sight flickered shortly in surprise.

As abruptly as the fight had started the fight ended. Cliffjumper had lost all sense of equilibrium with the hit and had easily been pushed to the ground. Bumblebee once again sat on the red warrior's chest alloy, a stabilizer securing the one arm.

But this time Cliffjumper didn't have the energy to break free.

Their ventilation systems were hissing and wheezing from the sudden outbursts, trying desperately to cool heated systems. And they both stared at the other. Bumblebee mirrored Cliffjumper's utterly flabbergasted expression, but neither reacted for a long time. The only audibly thing was their increased heaves for air.

"I won," the yellow one breathed as he stared at the red counterpart. He didn't even sound like he believed it himself. Then his mouth split in a smile, small at first but increasing to a full force grin. Not mean or superior in any way, just beaming in downright joy and delight. "I won," he repeated followed by an airy laugh.

Cliffjumper still didn't react, too stunned to even try and free his arm. Had he just wrestled with the spy, who had been an increasing annoyance in the past week, and lost? Seriously?!

And you know what? He blamed it all on the drugs and his medical status. And you would never hear him say otherwise.

Though, in his silent CPU, he reluctantly admitted that it had been… fun… sort of… and incredibly relieving to work out their verbal tension in a good old fashioned fight – which he would never admit either.

"I won!" Bumblebee exclaimed excitedly as he jumped off the red one. If the spy had been a bit more crazed, Cliffjumper could swear that Bumblebee would have done a victory dance. "I can't believe I won!"

"You and me both," Cliffjumper snorted silently as he pushed himself up to sit. "Damn…" The soft curse could be meant in surprise, annoyance, anger, confusion, or maybe a tad respect – or all above. Bumblebee just flashed another completely innocent and happy smile to the seated bot.

Cliffjumper studied the way jolly Autobot with furrowed optic ridges, because Bumblebee had suddenly gone from angry to carefree, and was above everything acting weirder than usually. Not that Bumblebee was weird normally – he was actually the complete reverse – but the spy knew how to hide his emotions, though if you looked carefully you could see through. He did not even try to hide that side of him now.

It was odd.

A hand interrupted his thoughts and field of vision. Cliffjumper lifted his optics to stare at Bumblebee, a grin still plastered on the peculiar bot's face, who had extended a hand to help Cliffjumper up. The red Autobot just frowned, and with his one hand smacked the offending one away. Like slag he needed help.

Bumblebee drew his hand back, pouting – actually _pouting_ – but didn't move farther away as Cliffjumper grumpily pushed himself up to stand.

"I won," Bumblebee repeated yet another time, now with a mischievous smile and raised optic ridges. Cliffjumper was pretty sure which way it was going. "You're gonna give me your ration of energon goodies for the next week, or I'll retell the fight to all the guys in the rec room. Every day!"

Cliffjumper groaned in annoyance. "Like Pit I am," he growled, lowering his optics to study the impressive dent which decorated his chest armor. Oh, how the slag was he going to explain that to Ratchet? He huffed out his anger before raising his optics to see the likewise impressive dent on Bumblebee's jaw. Frag, how was he going to explain that?!

Then he noticed that besides the still large grin and the dent, Bumblebee's vents were still hissing and working frantically on cooling the yellow's body. Which struck Cliffjumper as odd, because his own vents had already done the job and had gone back to work in calm silence. Actually, the humans had a quite good word to describe how Bumblebee looked like. He looked _flushed_, but not radiating any real form of discomfort or embarrassment.

Cliffjumper raised an optic ridge, "What is wrong with you?" he asked in both curiosity and confusion. Bumblebee meekly shrugged, humming lightly in a dismissive way. "Nothing."

"Really?"

"Yeah, nothing." Bumblebee grinned, stepping a little forward and attempting to push Cliffjumper's shoulder in a mockingly, but friendly, manner. He just forgot that one shoulder was missing.

Cliffjumper flinched and hissed when the hand hit the shoulder socket and the cut wires that stuck out, "Ow," he hissed as he moved one step back from Bumblebee. "Don't dare start it again!" he growled. Bumblebee raised his hand in surrender, looking truly apologetic. "Sorry, sorry."

Then the door to the medical bay opened.

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_A/N: Hello everybody. Thank you for all the awesome feedback. Blood Brothers is scheduled to pick up speed now – but it has gone against my wishes before…_

_Either way, it took some time for this chapter, but that is simply because that I discovered that it was PWP (Plot, What Plot?). Simply plotless. I know people thought it was going somewhere, but it is actually mostly me experimenting with Bee and Jumper's friendship. So yeah, I got a plot know. Should come into the light in not too long._

_Also, I'm changing my author name after this chapter, possibly to Lieutenant. Don't be surprised if you see the new name._

_By the way, check my profile to see my projects, and if possibly, leave feedback there too. =D_


	7. Chapter 7

The swish of the doors was the only warning of the new arrivals he got. Bumblebee stared at the door in short surprise seeing two Autobots, one way higher than the other, stopping dead in their tracks in the doorway.

Oh, it was Optimus and Ratchet.

The yellow spy once again smiled widely to the leader and the medic, ignoring the soft curse from Cliffjumper beside him and ignoring his own hissing vents. He wondered a little why the room was so warm but he pushed it aside. It was not important.

Optimus and Ratchet stared, one slack jawed, the other's mouth covered by a facemask – though Bumblebee was pretty sure that mouth would hang open too without.

He had absolutely no idea why they seemed so surprised.

Ratchet's blue optics seemed to be scanning the two minibots, trying to connect the dots in his head. Bumblebee wondered what the medic was thinking. He wondered what Optimus was thinking, the leader standing there staring in confusion. He wondered what Cliffjumper was—

No, wait, he was pretty sure he knew what his red counterpart was thinking.

_Slag._

"Optimus! Ratchet!" Bumblebee called happily, waving to them. He ignored the growing furrowed optic ridges of all three bots. "Hi!"

The senior officer and the leader stepped forward, Ratchet's optics narrowed as he took in the new dents on the red form and on the yellow form.

"What did you do?" Ratchet asked angrily as his optics narrowed more on Cliffjumper than on Bumblebee.

Wait, what? That was unfair…

"I didn't do anything," Cliffjumper snarled back, rubbing a hand over the sore chest dent.

"He didn't," Bumblebee confirmed. Ratchet turned a wide-opticed stare to the yellow bot. Ha, caught you by surprise. The spy barely held back a chuckle at Ratchet's face. Primus, it was funny.

He suddenly frowned. Wait, that wasn't funny at all. Was it?

Cliffjumper pointed at Bumblebee accusingly, "It was _him_ who attacked _me_!"

And then Ratchet didn't look all that surprised. Which surprised Bumblebee instead. The medic just straightened with a small "huh" before he stalked over to a cabin where he rummaged through some stuff. Bumblebee followed the medic with a furrowed stare. He didn't understand why Ratchet took it all so calmly, because 'Bee was rather proud to have won. Oh, wait, did he even tell them he had won?

"What happened?" Optimus asked calmly as he stepped forward. Optimus was always calm, Bumblebee thought. It was admirable.

"Just a friendly wrestle," the yellow spy said cheerfully, waving a dismissing hand in the air. Beside him, Cliffjumper snorted in a less than friendly manner. Optimus' raised optic ridge clearly told what he thought of a 'friendly wrestle' in the medical bay.

But Bumblebee didn't care. It had been fun, and he had won. He had grounded Cliffjumper!

"I won!" Bumblebee suddenly burst out, flailing a little with his arms in excitement. Optimus' optics widened in, was that amusement?, Ratchet stilled arms-deep in medical stuff and Cliffjumper let out a aggravated groan. The spy's grin widened by their reactions. So much fun, so much fun!

But annoying that it was steadily getting warmer. Who had messed with the ventilation? Maybe Wheeljack accidently blew it up? Then Ratchet shouldn't be in the med bay, he should check on—

What? Optimus had just asked if he was okay? Yes, yes, of course he was okay. He'd won. But it was still so damned hot. Didn't it bother them?

What should bother them? Optimus asked, like he didn't feel anything. Which couldn't be right because it was so fragging—

Ratchet? No no, no need to call Ratch'. He was fine, really. What was with the frown, Cliffjumper? Fine as in fine! Don't dare poke the shoulder again!

Primus, could someone stop that buzzing? It was really getting on his nerves.

Huh, wait, the room wasn't supposed to be swinging like that…

Oh hey, was that the floor?

---------------------------------------------------

_A/N: Uh, yeah, dropped the name change thing._

_Short chapter, I know, just wanted to give some Bee Point Of View._


	8. Chapter 8

Ratchet gave a startled curse as he jumped forward, closing the distance to the yellow bot in seconds, just in time to catch him as he crumbled to the floor. The medic took a quick vital scan; sparkbeat was fine, core temperature too high, main system ventilation strained, CPU status fine. He mumbled inaudible medical terms to himself as he scooped the temporary offline Bumblebee up in his arms.

Optimus had stepped forward, concerned, as Ratchet placed the spy on a medical berth. The medic asked quietly and calmly the leader to go grab an IV stand (a medical term he had from the humans) in the IV cabinet as he, still _very_ coolly, accessed the major coolant line in Bumblebee's throat through the softer metal plates and when Optimus came back with the IV stand, he picked up a coolant drop from a nearby cabin and connected a small hose to the spy's coolant line. It didn't take long for the kid's core temperature to drop and the vents calmed when they didn't have to cool the overheated frame.

"What the Pit is wrong with him?" Cliffjumper asked. He hadn't moved from his spot, he just stood there and stared with furrowed optic ridges. Ratchet realized that it probably wasn't the first time Cliffjumper had tried to get an answer since Bumblebee's collapse.

"Virus," the medic _calmly_ answered. If the red minibot heard the snappish tone behind, he said nothing. "The fight far from helped," he finished with a growl.

Ratchet practically _heard_ the optic ridges of the red minibot furrow further. "Virus? Didn't he get the fraggin' update?" the minibot grumbled, stalking over to his own berth and jumping up, sitting on the edge.

Ratchet recalled the last virus update; going through the list of Autobot who had received it in his CPU. What puzzled him was that everyone had gotten it. Every single Autobot. Which didn't help the explanation, because no other bot had a virus.

"Yes, he did," the white mech simply answered, going back to checking Bumblebee through scans, trying to locate the root of the virus. It didn't take long for him to locate its origins from his download center, the one they used when they connected with their computers. Huh.

Just then, metal steps were heard through the medical bay's door, followed by a low humming all too recognizable.

"Hey Ratch', ya think I can borr'w Bumbl—" the voice suddenly stopped, as he stepped into the doorway. "Huwow, wha' happ'ned here?"

Ratchet couldn't blame the mech for the surprise. The normal clean bay was a little messier than should be. And Optimus was hovering – a little nervous – near the berth belonging to a fallen yellow Autobot – and if that yellow bot wasn't Sunstreaker then there was a reason to worry.

"Hello Jazz," Ratchet grumbled coldly, not taking his eyes off the scans. "Name your business or leave."

"Uh, jus' needed ta burrow 'Bee fo'somethin' but I guess not… He's okay?" Jazz said, scratching the side of his helmet in a sort of confusion.

"He will be fine," Ratchet answered, finally glancing over his shoulder at the saboteur. "Can't you take Cliffjumper, I think he needs a little air."

The medic saw Cliffjumper scowl at him before he turned his attention back to the scans, patiently waiting for either the question he expected or for them to leave.

"… Ya sure that arm's okay?" Jazz finally asked, maybe to Cliffjumper or to the medic, but it was Ratchet who answered either way.

"Unless he has to do some heavy lifting, he should be just fine."

Cliffjumper grumbled something inaudible – possibly a series of insult directed to the medic – but Ratchet simply ignored it.

"… Okay then," Jazz shrugged, turning on his heel to leave. "Com' on, Cliffy, gonna need ya help."

Cliffjumper barely argued when he got the chance to leave the medical bay.

* * *

The two walked in silence, Jazz a bit ahead and Cliffjumper a little behind, seething in his own mind. He was furious. Ratchet had been angry because of a fight _Bumblebee_ had started. How the Pit was he supposed to know that Bumblebee had caught a virus while he was _defending_ himself?

Primusdammit, it was all a big bloody mess!

Not that Cliffjumper was one to take human curses on his own vocalizer, but 'bloody' seemed to explain it pretty well, actually.

"So, why would you want help from a one-armed Autobot?" Cliffjumper asked incredulously, and he would a waved with both arms if he had had a complete set. Instead he just settled with the one he had.

Jazz glanced over his shoulder, smirking slightly as if he could follow the minibot's thoughts. "Ac'tally, it's not _you_ in particular, bu' your size."

"Huh?" A rather unintelligent response, considered, which could probably translate to "Explain yourself, slagger!"

"Blaster reported a blocked vent 'n section five. Says the 'matic reset system ain't responding 'n' we're just that tad too big, ya know…" He shrugged merrily. Cliffjumper glowered. He hated it when Jazz shortened the words and was short on explanations, just like now. So the automatic reset system didn't respond, the ventilation wasn't functioning, the others were too big to get to the manual override which for some stupid reason had been placed _inside_ the ventilation system and Cliffjumper had been reduced to a fragging repairbot! Just great.

"Hey, dun' look so sour, Cliffy," Jazz chuckled, turning his visored gaze at the empty hallway in front of them. "It's just a quick reset, nothing major."

"You just said Blaster reported 'a _blocked_ vent'." Cliffjumper said with a raised optics, forcefully ignoring the odd nickname he had received.

"I did? Jus' meant it shut down, that's all, man."

When they arrived to the vent at the side of the orange wall, the hallway was still empty. It was a more isolated area of the Ark, near the storage area where no one really was unless they were on duty or because of punishment. Sure, it was the twins mostly seen in this area.

"Here we are," Jazz huffed as he reached up and took off the cover to the vent. The ventilation shaft – which fared some way inside before going out in an up and down T-turn – was truly too narrow for the larger bots to get inside… And if Cliffjumper knew the system right the only thing visible of him would be his stabilizing servos, thus the larger Autobots couldn't just reach inside and reset it. Even if it was because of security, it was fragging annoying.

"Right…" Jazz grinned, peering inside the shaft "Wanna get to it?" He, obviously, saw a certain amusement in this. Who could blame him? He had to stuff a grumpy minibot into a ventilation shaft.

And grumpy much; all the saboteur received was a growl as the minibot walked up to the wall. Cliffjumper didn't even mutter a thank you when Jazz helped him up and into the shaft. But then again, the bigger mech was trying to stifle his snickering.

"Where are you, you fragging little…" Cliffjumper trailed off as he singlehanded pushed himself forward, looking for the damn reset system. Actually, he was pleased to discover that there was more room than he had first expected, but that was because he was missing one of his bulky shoulders. Bumblebee might even have been a little crammed in there, since there wasn't much of a difference in their size – reluctantly admitted.

Cliffjumper just had to be careful not to— "Ow!"

"What happ'ned?" Jazz said from the outside, all of a sudden sounding a little concerned. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," the red minibot grumbled in response, moving that little more to the right he could. "Just bumped my shoulder… or what's left of it," he muttered as he pulled himself forward one more time and, finally, reached a little barely visible orange panel in the left side of the shaft. "Got it," he informed Jazz and, after a little tugging to get his right hand to the panel, he began prying the cover off.

Beneath it the system was whirring very softly, but still not working with full capacity, Cliffjumper saw, because half of the panel was dark. The rest of the small lights blinked happily, lighting the hand-sized panel and the rest of the shaft up. The dark part of the panel was the part that relayed data to and from the automatic system, so that was pretty much out.

"Slagging old ship's falling apart, for Primus sake," Cliffjumper growled as he began tapping in a sequence of numbers – one he had to dig deep into his CPU to remember – to run a closed circuit check. While the system ran the scan, Cliffjumper studied the circuits, trying to remember how he was supposed to restart the ventilation blowing in the clean air from outside, and he had to remember not to turn on the oxygen and heat filter, which was only while the ship was in space.

Cliffjumper hated to admit it, but he knew all this stuff because the Cybertronians had a habit of making the ventilation shafts just big enough for a minibot to get to the manual system and just small enough for the larger bots not to be able to. It was a fragged up way to do things, but he did learn about the system.

He felt a digit tap one of his stabilizing servos – the only things sticking out of the shaft at the moment – and he looked over his shoulder the best he could in the narrow space. Jazz peered in, looking curious.

"How's it goin'?" he asked with a short grin.

Cliffjumper huffed slightly annoyed. "I'm running a scan to find the reason an' I'm working on gettin' it started again."

Jazz chuckled, "Knew you'd know this stuff."

"Most minibots do."

"I know."

And they fell silent, not really having anything to talk about. Cliffjumper looked back at the system, seeing it had finished its scan. The problem was… undecided. The red minibot raised an optic ridge at the binary-like code that scrolled over the small screen, taking in the meaning; that it didn't make sense. Go figure, the stupid system must be glitching, he thought.

"Ya know," Jazz spoke again; his voice more muffled which told Cliffjumper that the saboteur now stood besides the shaft opening, instead of looking inside. A small scratch of metal against metal told him that Jazz was leaning against the wall. "Ya really gave us a scare."

"I did?" Cliffjumper said, only following the conversation halfsparked, his concentration mostly on sending the information to Blaster for study and to reinitiate the ventilation.

"Yeah, man," Jazz continued like he hadn't noticed the red one's slightly indifferent tone. "When we foun' you and 'Bee…" he trailed off, as if nervous to talk about it. "Thought ya were gone, ya know… Missin' an arm 'n' eveythin'."

Cliffjumper vaguely wondered how he would have reacted to see a comrade lying unconscious in the sand, an arm missing, dangerously crushed neck plating and energon smeared around. It was a scary mental image, but he knew he would have thought the same thing.

"Bumblebee's optics were white…"

That caused Cliffjumper's one hand to stop, hovering over the panel just short of initiating the system. He blinked, surprised, before muttering a "Really?"

Cybertronians weren't able to show certain strong emotions like the humans were, it was a well-known fact – even if there had been recorded a few extreme cases. One obvious action that the robots did not possess was the ability to cry. The leaking of water from the humans' eyes had always fascinated the Transformers and it had often surprised some bots when a human cried of happiness, since most believed they only did so in sadness.

But the Cybertronians couldn't cry. For as long as they had existed they had relied on other body functions to express such deep emotions; often a quickening of their internal system or sounds from it. Then there was one major function that only showed itself when under extreme emotions – both sadness and hatred, even fright. It was a color change of their optics. Often, in the Autobots' case, it was blue optics going brighter and finally becoming white. The Decepticons' choice of color change depended on the individual con, though many of them erased that sort of functions to show complete insensitiveness.

But now that they were in war, the color change of the optics was very, _very_ rare. Cybertronians were simply getting used to all the death, chaos and destruction; so familiar with it that they didn't feel so strong emotions any longer.

They were used to war.

But Bumblebee had – in a human word – cried? Not only that, but for Cliffjumper?

The red minibot's black hand curled up and rested on the shaft's floor, optic ridges furrowed. He didn't get it, frankly, because the two of them had griped, they had fought, they had been _enemies_ for the last couple of days, Bumblebee had even been sick. Maybe that was the reason for the white optics? Primus, it was all so very confusing.

"Little 'Bee looked so… scared," Cliffjumper heard Jazz mutter before quieting down again. The red warrior would have passed it off as a bad joke, exaggeration, some weird plan to make the two minibots become friends – he really would have passed it off if Jazz hadn't said it _like that_.

"Huh," Cliffjumper murmured to no one as he uncurled his hand and initiated the ventilation. For a couple of clicks all sound was drowned out by the loud whirring of the system as it started up. Then it quieted down to the ever so silent hum of the machinery working. He could even pick of the slight change of the air now that it was getting cycled.

He pushed himself out of the ventilation shaft with every intention to head straight for his quarters and stay there for quite a while.

* * *

_A/N: Bwahaha, I left you hanging with chapter seven! That was totally __not__ my plan… *sighs* World domination is far away, if my plans keep going like this. Writing takes more time than I first anticipate. Damn school._

_Love my readers and reviewers! Input is loved, good – substantiate – criticism is too. I take in and I learn._


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

As it turned out Cliffjumper never got the chance to get back to his quarters. Shortly after he had exited the shaft, Blaster had contacted Jazz again and – a little hesitantly – reported that another shaft had shut down. Cliffjumper had groaned in annoyance when they set out to repair another ventilation system.

And, infuriating, after that, the third broke down. All without a real reason. Blaster began to grow annoyed, Jazz rather confused, and Cliffjumper was just ticked off.

Before the red minibot would even touch the third ventilation shaft, he had Blaster cut any and all kinds of connections the ventilation system had with the Ark, doing it from the main computer where the communication expert was monitoring the situation.

It seemed to work, whatever had been wrong, and while Blaster was discussing with Jazz, Cliffjumper stalked back through the hallways of the Ark towards his quarters. Today had truly been an annoying day for the red minibot. Not only had he fought Bumblebee, he had _lost_ and afterwards had become a simple repairbot. Dammit.

And not only that, Cliffjumper thought as he left his quarters shortly after having arrived there, he now had to go back to the medical bay to face the little yellow annoyance. At least he would get his arms reattached, but it didn't seem like enough sunshine to brighten his day.

The doors to the medical bay swished open to reveal it fairly empty, only with Bumblebee sitting on a berth – apparently feeling better – and First Aid tinkering with the severed red arm.

"So, First Aid," Cliffjumper began as he walked in, completely ignoring the yellow minibot. And the medic jumped slightly in surprise. "An arm, was it?" he continued to grumble, indicating with one hand to his missing shoulder part. First Aid simply nodded, his expression masked by visor and facemask, and he waved at an empty berth – intentionally at one far away from where Bumblebee sat watching.

"Please," the medic in training calmly said, picking up the arm, careful of the wires sticking out and waited for the red Autobot to get seated, which he soon did.

An uncomfortable silence seemed to stretch as First Aid worked on reattaching wires and cables, repairing the joint. Once or twice Cliffjumper would wince, and Aid would mumble a quick apology before continuing. Bumblebee was staring both at the berth he sat on and shortly towards his red counterpart, looking like he wanted to say something, but not knowing what. First Aid, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind the silence.

It continued for a while until Cliffjumper gave a sharp 'Ouch!' and got his other arm back. And tried to prove it by nearly knocking First Aid on his aft in reflex to the sudden pain. Which left a less then happy medic, even with the limited expression you could read.

Cliffjumper stretched his arm, flexing his hand to a fist and back again, enjoying the feel of it and how it made him seem less helpless. Not that he was _ever_ helpless, of course, but the fact that Bumblebee had sort of defeated him made him feel helpless enough for it to be a bother.

"Stay there," First Aid told him, rubbing the arm where the minibot had accidentally dented the alloy slightly. "There's still some final adjustments that need to be done. I just have to get the spare parts. Nothing major…" the medic continued in a mumble to himself as he left the main room of the medical bay.

Leaving Cliffjumper alone with Bumblebee.

Cliffjumper didn't look up, still studying his repaired arm, jabbing into the air once or twice to check it. It felt fine; he couldn't see any reason for anymore repairs. But of course, he had learned all too well that if he didn't listen to First Aid, he didn't listen to Ratchet and that was just paying the ticket right to the Pit.

"Cliffjumper…"

The red minibot looked up, glaring to Bumblebee who now sat on the edge of his own berth, looking at the floor in a typical apologizing manner. Cliffjumper had really expected that apology from the yellow Autobot, but it was a fact that he didn't want it.

"I'm sorry about… uh…" Bumblebee waved shortly in the direction of Cliffjumper's chest, making the 'bot look down. Oh, the dent from the fight, he had forgotten all about that.

But that was not the point. "_Don't_… say you're sorry," the red counterpart growled, jumping off the berth and stalking over to the other one. "I won't listen to your stupid apologies."

Bumblebee looked slightly taken aback at that, bringing one hand up as if to protect himself from an attack. Not that Cliffjumper could blame him for that, he felt like he could easily attack the yellow one.

"What do you think you're doing, trying to _apologize_ after that fight?" Cliffjumper said, waving his now present hand angrily, but pausing in question.

Bumblebee nodded meekly. Which caused Cliffjumper to groan in annoyance. He really was trying to apologize.

"Why in the Pit would you apologize for _winning_ a fight?" Cliffjumper said in annoyance, because he honestly felt it was stupid. Bumblebee had won, which he had seemed rather happy about when he was ill, and therefore there was absolutely no reason to say he was sorry to Cliffjumper; it wasn't even bad damage, but Bumblebee made it sound like he was devastated about doing something like that. "You wouldn't apologize to a Decepticon if you won, you shouldn't apologize to an Autobot either."

Bumblebee hesitated, not answering. And it just fueled Cliffjumper's anger. The red one grabbed the yellow one's black stabilizing servo, and promptly pulled, forcing Bumblebee off the berth to land on his aft with a yelp.

"What the Pit is wrong with you?" Cliffjumper yelled, jabbing a finger against Bumblebee's chassis to emphasis his point. Bumblebee didn't answer; he just looked at the floor where he now sat.

"This is war, Primusdammit!" the red warrior continued. "How can you go around and act so damned… innocent! Why do you _still_ hesitate on killing? They're Decepticons, our mortal enemies!"

Cliffjumper was growing frustrated. He didn't understand how Bumblebee could keep being so happy, cheerful and innocent when not one of them knew whether they would live to see the next day. Or how he could keep up the smiling attitude when they constantly had to fight and kill, fight and kill, even fight their own sometimes. How Bumblebee could keep joking when the mech next to them could be a traitor, a Decepticon in disguise just waiting to end the war and make them all slaves? How could he, what was the secret? It was so damned frustrating! "How can you keep being the young one when you fight like the rest of us, kill like the rest of us?" The yelling seemed to grow in strength, arms being thrown out to make points and emphasis his opinions. "You even cried, you dolt!"

Bumblebee flinched at that, apparently not something he was all that proud of. "I… I had a virus…" he defended weakly.

"Virus, my aft," Cliffjumper simply growled down to the minibot. "A virus doesn't make you cry in the midst of battle just because of a wounded comrade. That was all you, Bumblebee. Crying, of all things useless."

"But…"

"No! I'm tired of trying to look through you!" he cut 'Bee off. "Why can't you just show yourself, dammit! No one can be this innocent and happy all the time!"

Cliffjumper stopped yelling, almost expecting Bumblebee to try and defend himself again, give a reason for that attitude that seemed to annoy the red minibot greatly. But the yellow one didn't say anything, still seated on the floor, legs crossed. He just looked on the floor in front of him, from time to time glancing up at Cliffjumper timidly. Almost as if he was… ashamed.

"Garh, for Primus sake!" Cliffjumper threw up his hands in frustration. "I'm beginning to believe that the first and only time I really saw _you_ was when you had the virus! Why are you hiding, Bumblebee? How can you not be obvious angry or annoyed? Why aren't you pissed off sometimes? Or are you really just a… a…" He searched for a word, optics on his hands as if he tried to grab the word he couldn't find.

"A wimp?" Bumblebee offered weakly.

"What?"

"Wimp… it's a human word…" he smiled shortly, though it fell away as Cliffjumper glared.

"Then yes, you're a wimp!" the red one said, having quickly run the name through his processor and memory banks of the human language. A wimp… a timid person, a coward… a weakling. The fact that Bumblebee was surely hiding his real self, being all good and friendly manners, was enough to convince Cliffjumper that it was what the yellow one truly was.

That they had lost their own word for this in the war was honestly a little concerning. One just couldn't afford to be a 'wimp' anymore.

Cliffjumper growled something inaudible as he turned on his heel, forgetting all about his last repairs as he left the medical bay with heavy, angered steps.

Leaving a very unhappy Bumblebee on the floor.

* * *

_A/N: Yeah, so, thi__s time I would like to think that I have a perfectly good reason for leaving you hanging. It's called school. And the fact that I'm trying to FINISH Blood Brothers *grins*_

_Yes, you heard right, I'm trying hard to write every chapter. Because this spring break, when I was in Rome, I wrote the whole script to the story. And I now know how many chapters it has. Let's just say there's a long way still. But hey, I've finished chapter 10, 11 and in the middle of 12 now, so it's well underway._

_But but but, one word for you guys. Finals. This year was my last in high school/college thing (dunno what it is called compared to American school system…) and I have seven exams spread over one – ONE – month. Only four left… *dies*_

_My intention was to finish the whole fanfic before posting it, but I decided to post chapter nine because Aerinsol – a wonderful reader and commenter on DeviantArt – had her birthday. So I posted it on DA, and thought I just as well could post it here. So enjoy, and go say a late happy birthday to her =D_

_R&R and peace out, dudes and dudettes!_


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